


painted wings

by big_wet_cas_eyes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Professors, Castiel is Claire Novak's Parent, M/M, Meet-Cute, One Shot, Professor Castiel (Supernatural), Professor Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29076825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/big_wet_cas_eyes/pseuds/big_wet_cas_eyes
Summary: "Excuse me, would you mind taking my photo? If you have a moment, of course," a deep voice asks him. Dean looks up to see a man standing there, looking at him hopefully and gesturing behind him toward the mural. He feels his jaw drop open for a second when his eyes rest on the man's face. He's gorgeous. Dark, messy hair and piercing blue eyes that make Dean feel like he's melting into a puddle.But Dean raises his eyebrow slightly when the question registers in his brain. This guy doesn't really look like the type to want a picture in front of a cotton candy-colored mural of angel wings.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 16
Kudos: 112





	painted wings

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 3 of [starrynightdeancas](https://starrynightdeancas.tumblr.com/post/640512697270747136/the-time-has-finally-arrived-here-to-announce-the)'s 2k follower celebration on tumblr
> 
> Day 3 Prompt: **Wings**. I didn't mean to write a meet-cute AU for this prompt, but sometimes my brain won't let go of an idea.
> 
> [tumblr link](https://big-wet-cas-eyes.tumblr.com/post/641707522568388608/wings-day-3-of-starrynightdeancas-s-2k)

Thursdays are Dean's favorite day to be at conferences. Usually, there's only a partial day of events, and some people skip it altogether. Once the conference is in full swing, he'll be busy bouncing from talks to lunches to happy hours to dinners with people he only sort of knows. But on Thursdays, he can breathe. 

Conferences certainly aren't his favorite part of being a professor. He's kind of a homebody, so the travel and socializing is a little much for him, especially when air travel is involved. But he does like exploring new cities, so he makes the best of it. 

That's how he finds himself wandering around downtown Thursday evening. The streets are bustling with the after-work crowd.

Dean pauses when he passes one of those huge angel wing murals that he sees all over the internet. There are a couple of teenage girls standing there posing and giggling. Dean chuckles, and once the girls run off, he snaps a picture of it. His best friend, Jo, loves gimmicky tourist things like that, so he sends the picture off to her, along with a _wish you were here_ text. 

"Excuse me, would you mind taking my photo? If you have a moment, of course," a deep voice asks him. Dean looks up to see a man standing there, looking at him hopefully and gesturing behind him toward the mural. He feels his jaw drop open for a second when his eyes rest on the man's face. He's gorgeous. Dark, messy hair and piercing blue eyes that make Dean feel like he's melting into a puddle.

But Dean raises his eyebrow slightly when the question registers in his brain. This guy doesn't really look like the type to want a picture in front of a cotton candy-colored mural of angel wings. He looks to be about Dean's age. He's wearing a full suit with a trench coat on top, despite the summer heat. He realizes he's still staring when the guy clears his throat.

"Sorry for bothering you, I'll find someone else," the man says with a slight nod before beginning to turn away.

"No, no, wait, I'll do it!" Dean says, feeling bad for basically ignoring the guy while checking him out. "You just surprised me. Took my brain a second to process." 

The man smiles at him. "Thank you, I appreciate it," he says, handing his phone to Dean. The camera app is already open. 

Dean gives him a small smile back. "Not to be weird about it, but you don't really seem like the angel wing mural type." 

"Ah, I'm not," he says dryly. Sensing Dean's confusion, probably, he adds, "I sent my daughter a photo of the mural earlier. She's been bombarding me all day with requests that I take a photo in front of it." 

Dean smiles wider at that. The man's eyes light up as he's talking about his daughter, and Dean's smitten by how cute it is. "Totally get it, man. If my niece was old enough to text, she'd probably do the same to me." He thinks of little Mary, running around the house in a princess dress and fairy wings as Eileen tries to catch her. Maybe he should take one for her, too. "I've got you." He glances down at the guy's chest and adds, "Take off your badge first." 

"What?" the man asks, clearly confused.

Dean pulls his matching conference badge out of his pocket. The lanyards attached to all of the badges this year are a horrid shade of neon orange. "This," Dean says, shaking it slightly, "Take yours off for the picture." 

"Oh… thank you," he says, pulling off the lanyard and shoving it into a pocket of his trench coat. He walks in the direction of the mural. He turns and faces Dean, mouth in a straight line. 

Dean snaps the photo and frowns. The dude doesn't look happy, despite the joy that was in his eyes when he mentioned his daughter. "Smile, dude! This is for your kid!" Dean says loudly. 

The man huffs slightly, but then his mouth splits into a gummy smile, eyes crinkling at the edges. The smile is infectious, and Dean can't help the one that spreads across his own face in response. He takes a couple more photos before he gestures for the guy to come back over. He does and Dean returns his phone. 

"Mind taking one of me? Looked at it long enough that I want to send one to my niece anyway." 

"Yes, of course," the man replies, taking Dean's offered phone.

Dean smiles and poses (hands on his hips, like a superhero), and there's a good chance the picture captures the laugh that comes out when he hears the other man chuckle.

He walks back over and retrieves his phone. Then, he offers his hand for a handshake. "So I guess we're in town for the same conference. Dean Winchester. It's nice to meet you."

"Castiel Novak," he replies, grasping Dean's hair and shaking it firmly. "It's nice to meet you as well." He pauses for a moment, and his eyes widen with something that looks like recognition. "Dean Winchester. I just read your new paper, Bradbury and Winchester. It was fascinating." 

"Hey, thanks, man," Dean says with a grin, "but if I'm being honest, almost all the credit for that one should go to my grad student, Charlie. She's the best."

"Well, it's a testament to your teaching that one of your students can produce such excellent research," Castiel says, and Dean blushes at the words. "I would love to be able to teach like that someday." 

"Are you not a professor?" Dean asks. Maybe he misjudged the guy's age. 

"No, I actually only recently completed my doctorate. It took a little longer than I'd hoped, but I had to take some time away from schooling for my daughter." Dean nods in understanding. A handful of people he knows had a baby during graduate school and it definitely did not make the experience any easier for them. "I'm beginning a postdoctoral fellowship at the University of Kansas next month, though."

"Oh, no way, that's where I teach!" Dean says. When he sees the glint of amusement in Castiel's eyes, he says, "But you already knew that. Because you just read my paper."

"I did. Different department than you, though. I'll be working with Professor Cain." 

Dean smiles. "He's great, you'll like working with him." Before he can continue, Dean's stomach decides to punctuate his sentence with a loud grumble. "Uh, any interest in grabbing dinner? I'm starving, and I'd like to hear more about what you do if we're gonna be colleagues soon." 

"Sure, I'd like that, Professor Winchester," Castiel says.

Dean scoffs. "You're uninvited if you call me that, Cas. Just Dean."

"Dean. Okay, let's go," he says, a small smile curling at the edges of his lips. They walk for a while, chatting a little about food and the city until they stumble upon a restaurant that sounds good to both of them. 

Once they've ordered, Cas pulls out his phone. "I hope my daughter appreciates the picture," he says, swiping at the screen as he looks through the photos Dean took. He might have gotten a little carried away; there's a bunch. "I don't want to receive another photo of her pouting at me." 

Dean chuckles. He pulls out his own phone to send his mural photo to his brother and sister-in-law. Cas also took a few, but he selects one where he's laughing extra hard. _Took this for Princess Mary, tell her I love her_ , he texts to accompany the photo. "I'm sure she'll love it. How many pouting photos did you get?"

Cas hums, tapping a few times on his phone as Dean watches. "It appears… six." He turns his phone around to Dean. The name at the top of the text message thread reads _Claire_ 🐝 and he can already see two of the pictures. Cas's daughter, Claire, looks a little older than he expected. That, combined with the heavy eyeliner, doesn't make her seem like the kind of kid that would beg her dad to take a picture with an angel wing mural. Cas scrolls slightly and Dean sees a slew of _please dad_ and _you gotta!_ text messages, interspersed with more pictures of her frowning. It's kind of adorable. 

"How old is she?" Dean asks. 

"Fifteen," Cas answers. Dean opens his mouth, but closes it again when Cas continues, "I know, I don't look old enough to have a daughter her age. I get that a lot."

"Sorry," Dean mumbles. "No need to explain, I was just surprised."

Cas shrugs. "It's okay. Accidental pregnancy with my high school girlfriend back when we were both trying to convince ourselves that we were straight." Cas immediately blushes. "Sorry, too much information. I had already switched out of professional mode for the evening, and I forgot that we technically work together."

"You're in good company. No judgment from me. You won't be the only one out of the closet when you get there." He winks and then grimaces internally. He hadn't meant to start flirting.

Cas's eyes widen and then soften. "Thank you, Dean. I'm glad I haven't made a total fool of myself." His phone buzzes on the table and he picks it up. He smiles that wide, bright smile again, the one that Dean can't help but match. "Claire loves the photo," he says, turning his phone around. It's another photo of Claire, but this time she has the same bright smile on her face as her dad. 

"She really wanted you to take that picture, didn't she," Dean says with a chuckle.

Cas nods. "She did. She's a sweet girl." 

"Why's she love angel wings so much? She doesn't really… look the type, I guess," Dean asks, his curiosity finally winning out. 

"The eyeliner phase is new. She's always loved angels, though. Her mother used to tell her angels were watching over her every night before bed, and I think that stuck with her."

Dean smiles. "My mom used to say the same thing to me. Definitely sticks with you," he says, as he pushes up the sleeve of his shirt. He holds his arm out to show Castiel the angel wing tattoo on his forearm, his mom's name and the dates she was alive in the middle. "Got this for her a few years ago."

Cas reaches out, brushing the edge of one of the wings. Dean shivers a little at the touch, but mostly just because of how soft and gentle Cas's hands are. "It's beautiful, I'm sure she would appreciate it," Cas says. "I think Claire's mom always said it because I'm named for an angel. Claire calls me her angel when she's feeling sentimental." Dean's not sure if Cas realizes that he's still tracing the edges of his tattoo. Honestly, he doesn't mind. The contact feels nice and he feels surprisingly drawn to Cas. His hand stays there until their food arrives.

The conversation shifts slightly, becoming more casual. They talk about their research, the talks they're planning to attend during the weekend, and a little bit about the university Castiel will soon call home. It's comfortable. Cas is really nice and interesting, and Dean's excited that it looks like he'll have a new friend when the school year starts. 

A little voice in the back of his head hopes that he'll end up more than a friend, and Dean thinks the feeling might be mutual when Cas grabs his hand on their way back to the conference hotel. 


End file.
